


My Sweet Love, Won't You Pull Me Through?

by a-nastywoman (kosm)



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Hotel, American Horror Story: Murder House
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26739571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kosm/pseuds/a-nastywoman
Summary: It was sometimes so easy to get lost in your mind when Billie Dean was away, usually gone on some trip or filming spree. Eventually, you had begun to spiral beyond the point of return but luckily the blond woman always showed up at the right time.
Relationships: Billie Dean Howard/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	My Sweet Love, Won't You Pull Me Through?

It was sometimes so easy to get lost in your mind when Billie Dean was away, usually gone on some trip or filming spree.

And she had been gone for nearly a month now. 

You were left to your own devices and since you worked from home, you often sat in your silent house and thought about every little thing. 

Sometimes you would sit out on your porch, on the swing Billie Dean had demanded when you two had moved in. 

With a cup of tea in hand, you would just watch the leaves on the trees before you blow off in the breeze. 

Those silent moments became a habit and eventually, you would spend most of your day just sitting and watching. 

Just staring at something you couldn’t interact with or talk to but focused on none the less. 

Sometimes you would get so lost that you would lose track of time, minutes turning into hours, and hours even turning into days.

Just sitting and staring while you neglected the food going bad in your fridge or the dust gathering on the countertops. 

Eventually, you had become so stagnant that friendships seemed to melt away at your lack of effort, care, and time.

Billie was the only relationship that you could bring yourself to maintain. You tried your hardest to call and text her often when she was away on her trips. 

Despite that, you couldn’t summon the courage to tell her how hard it had been since you didn’t want to worry her and interrupt her busy days. 

The blond woman meant everything to you. 

So you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore her like you were doing to everyone else and you tried your hardest to seem put together and happy for her when she reached out. 

It was like your world had been frozen, crystallized into some stillness that you couldn’t break free from.

Your mind felt numb, your chest empty, and your limbs weak.

Even your work suffered since it relied on your creativity to be flourishing for anything to get finished. 

It was unfortunate then when things didn’t go to plan.

— 

It was supposed to be a simple Sunday morning chore run. 

You had woken up at the same time as always, early in the morning, and unable to sleep. 

Skipping breakfast and sipping down some tea, the jumble in your head was buzzing as it always did. 

Sometimes it amazed you that moving, thinking, and talking was even possible with the ringing in your head and the numbness in your mind. 

You had gathered enough energy to shower, for the first time in a week, and dragged yourself out of the door and into your car. 

By all accounts, it was a beautiful day. 

A blazing blue sky with golden rays shining down, with a fresh autumnal breeze blowing in the wind, and crunched leaves littering the ground. 

The prettiest days always tended to be the worst. 

There was something about the beauty of it all that just dragged the negative out of you. 

Your car started with a hum and the slow rolling of wheels on gravel filled your mind, replacing the emptiness there with repetitive sound.

Almost like the noise of a buzzing record when the songs are finished and silence fills the room. 

Cars passed by and people walked on the street. 

You saw families pushing children in strollers, teenage couples holding hands, and pets being fawned over in the little patches of green grass lighting up the roadside. 

It was quaint and picturesque in a way you didn’t think that you deserved. 

So much had gone right in the last few years that it had left you waiting for a drop, that inevitable moment where everything eventually gets taken away. 

It was fair to say that was your experience with happiness at least and you were at your most joyful now, with Billie. 

Billie Dean had swept into your life like a whirlwind, all charming smiles, soothing whispers, and soft hands.

She was the sweetest and kindest person you had ever met and you didn’t once worry about your safety in her arms. 

And that alone made you terrified of losing her. 

Your mind often worked to convince you that you didn’t deserve her because of your mental health issues or because of the fact that you weren’t usually with her every day. 

Billie could always tell when these thoughts crossed your mind, not that she knew exactly what they were. 

The blond woman was a psychic medium after all and sometimes you knew that she could sense that something was off.

You would see the twinge in her smooth features as she would stare at your blank face, replaced with a simple veneer of emotion. 

She was polite to a fault though and never pried, not unless it was truly concerning. 

And while she didn’t pry, you also didn’t make much of an attempt to tell her what was bothering you. 

You didn’t even know how to explain something as confusing as depression. 

Besides, you had always thought that a busy woman like Billie Dean had more important things to care about than you being depressed.

So why would she ask? 

And why would you even try to bother her? 

It was a very negative way to look at it all. 

A mindset that hadn’t quite left you behind from past trauma, along with the fear that you were too much or too big of a burden for her. 

Even when you didn’t speak, Billie knew that you struggled and she often did small little things when she was home to try to cheer you up.

A bouquet of flowers, a new brew of coffee from wherever she had traveled, or a sweater of hers conveniently left behind with a spritz of perfume to last weeks. 

Sometimes you even smoked a few cigarettes just to have the smell sink in with the perfume on the fabric. 

That husky burnt scent was just as much a part of her as the rest. 

You felt lucky with Billie Dean and as you drove by all those happy people you wondered if you truly deserved that. 

If you deserved some semblance of happiness with the woman that you loved. 

Whatever beast lingered inside of you always said no and it was hard to fight your own mind most days. 

Before you began to spiral though, you pushed that thought down. 

Not even daring to bring it up while you were in a public space and liable to have a meltdown. 

Instead, you forced yourself out of the car and into the parking lot, shutting the door behind you and dropping your keys into your pocket. 

As you turned to walk a car barrelled past you, speeding through the lot and nearly skimming your hip. 

A curse dropped from your lips as you stepped back and anxiety pounded in your chest while your body tensed. 

Your breathing had increased as the panic began to spread and you were angry at yourself for not noticing the car. 

It was just another little crack that brought you closer and closer to a meltdown. 

You had been feeling so fragile lately that even the smallest thing could set you off. 

And it was so easy to blame yourself when something went wrong that any opportunity to do so was taken easily. 

Negative thoughts started swirling in your head. 

Your mind telling you that coming outside was a mistake and that you must have been a burden for struggling with such a simple task. 

Billie Dean must be exhausted dealing with you and this all of the time, or at least that was what you thought. 

You were pulled out of your panic by a person walking near you with a shopping cart. 

The sound snapping you out of it and the loud ring of metal on concrete brought you back to your body. 

So you once again pushed the negative feelings down and continued. 

Entering the store you took in a breath. 

It was packed. 

With lines of people halfway across the floor and most of the food was already gone. 

It was a huge anxiety trap. One that you wished with all of your heart that you could avoid. 

But despite that, you knew that you needed food and the cabinets at home were empty so you had no other option. 

As you walked through the aisles you narrowly dodged busy people, trying your hardest to tamp down on the panic filling you, your mind decided to focus elsewhere. 

Drifting off to Billie Dean and what she would do right now. 

You knew that she likely would have gone to the smaller and much more expensive store near the house. 

Always buying the best of the best and a cart full of healthy food. 

Your mind wasn’t in that same place though and you picked easy minute foods off the shelves, throwing in the occasional vegetable or fruit that you knew Billie liked. 

A nonsensical combination of foods that didn’t make any sense.

And so the trip continued, eventually, you had finished and as you packed your groceries and headed out to the car, you noticed that it was hours later. 

Disbelief filled you at the thought but with the haze that had been taking over your mind this morning, it was easy to tell that you had likely wandered in the same aisles over and over again while getting nothing done. 

You entered your car in a daze, driving back home, somehow safely and kicking the door shut behind you. 

The sound of paper bags ruffling entered your ears and you froze, eyes squinting towards a light that you hadn’t left on and the low drone of music playing. 

“Is that you, sugar?” 

Billie Dean’s voice filled the air and your heart stopped as shame quickly filled you. 

She couldn’t see you like this, dressed in your most-worn clothes while the house was a mess and the kitchen empty. 

So you stuttered to a halt. 

One foot still hanging in the air as your mind raced over what you could do to make this situation look better. 

“Sweetheart?” 

In the time that Billie hadn’t received an answer, she had grown curious and turned the corner to see you standing there frozen with bags on your arms. 

“What are you doing baby?” 

Billie’s voice was soft and lilting like it was some inside joke as she stepped into your space.

Lifting the bags from your arms, she placed them down and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

You didn’t respond, your mind was whirling and you were still stuck on what to do. 

“That’s all the love I get after being gone so long?” 

Your eyes shifted up as Billie smirked over at you with a teasing pout on her lips and she put her hands on her hips and waited. 

“Come here, I need to hug you.”

On reflex more than anything, you stepped forward. 

Wrapping your arms around her waist and burrowing into the side of her neck. 

You squeezed her tight, feeling the warmth of her body and smelling that unique combination of scents she always seemed to possess. 

Once you stepped away you dropped a kiss on her neck and her lips, short pecks, and a far cry from what you normally did when she came home. 

On most nights when she arrived you would practically drag her to the bedroom, so eager to show her just how much you had missed her in the time that she had been gone. 

The two of you would spend all night in bed while enjoying the little things that you had both missed so dearly. 

For you, it was the simple things. 

It was the way that Billie Dean’s nose crinkled when she laughed. 

Or how she would play with the pearls around her neck without thought. 

And most of all, the way that she moved through the house so comfortably. 

So when both of you had sated your appetite for each other, you would lay together in bed. 

Talking and laughing as you watched her nose crinkle and her hands play with that pearl necklace. 

Small moments of intimacy that had drilled themselves into your mind. 

It made sense then that Billie Dean would grow concerned now. 

As she watched you numbly give affection before you stepped around her and walked into the kitchen. 

Dropping your bags on the table and staring at the countertops for a moment too long. 

There was no joy, no desire, and most of all no emotion. 

Billie followed you in, her eyes tracking over you as you moved aimlessly around the space.

Unpacking bags and then stacking items, only to re-stack them again like you had forgotten it had ever happened. 

“I went to the store too sugar. There was nothing here when I came in, have you been eating?” 

Her probing questions were just that, probes to see how you were feeling about the things around you, and if you had even noticed the lack of food. 

“I even threw out a bunch of rotten things from the last time that I was home.” 

You nodded your head at her words and opened the fridge as you stared at it now fully cleaned and stocked with all manner of fruits and vegetables. 

“Thanks, Billie, my stomach has been upset a lot so I didn’t eat most of it.“

Billie Dean hummed at your words, picking up that it was a lie rather quickly as she continued to watch your movements. 

She had leaned back against the counter with her legs crossed and her eyes soft with concern. 

“Well, why don’t I make lunch?” 

At her words, you practically lit up. 

It was the perfect opportunity to get some room and think about how you could make this situation seem better. 

“That would be great Billie. I think I’ll go shower and change while you do.” 

Before she could even respond you had practically darted out of the room, walking quickly upstairs and shutting the bedroom door behind you. 

Billie watched with furrowed brows as you did so, confusion filling her at your actions. 

It wasn’t often that you wanted to be separated when the two of you were finally together again.

But she didn’t want to push too far. 

Only hoping that perhaps you would talk to her about whatever was bothering you. 

So instead she turned to the stove and began cooking. 

— 

Once you had reached the bedroom the anxiety that you had tried so hard to cover up seemed to be overflowing. 

You were upset with yourself. 

Not quite understanding why you couldn’t just do simple things like eating regularly or keeping the house clean. 

And then Billie Dean had come home without warning so you didn’t even have time to prepare. 

It was jarring. 

Normally you would know so far ahead that you would have time to summon the energy required to clean the house, go shopping, and make it seem like you weren’t incredibly depressed. 

You understood logically that these actions were all symptoms of a bigger problem and that you had to work on the depression to be able to handle the smaller issues. 

But it just felt like much too big of a task. 

The thought of it alone, of going back on medication, or seeing a therapist again overwhelmed you to the point of panic. 

Your heart began to beat quickly, so fast that it made your chest hurt, and tears started to fall from your eyes. 

As quick as you could manage you dropped to the ground and curled up in a corner of the room. 

Being low to the ground felt safe, as safe as you could get right now when your mind and body were the enemies. 

Your head was swarming and every thought reminded you of why you weren’t enough or why you didn’t deserve Billie Dean. 

Why would you?

You knew logically that she loved you and this happiness was real, but that didn’t account for the irrationality of the extremely depressed. 

It didn’t account for the way your mind would twist every moment, every loving touch, every scenario just to make you feel as if you had been burdening her all along. 

You remembered the last time that you had felt truly happy. 

It had been a few months ago, in the middle of a hot and sticky summer, when Billie Dean had surprised you with a trip. 

You had spent a week with her in blissful peace at a little house that she had rented, a way for her to escape from the celebrities and the hustle of filming. 

The time that you had together was one of your most cherished memories. 

What had come after though was long periods of separation, a new season to film, and your abject spiral back into a dark place. 

It had nothing to do with Billie Dean, not really.

You did wish she was physically there more often but your mind was your own and your depression another being entirely out of her reach. 

And now when she was home, you were ruining this time too.

You had spent every moment alone miserable and you were terrified at the thought of that merging into your time with Billie Dean. 

It made you feel like you didn’t deserve any of it, not happiness, and not her. 

The thoughts didn’t stop there, only increasing in their nasty ability to pull apart every single insecurity inside of you. 

You just wanted it to stop. 

Your breathing sped up, as did your heartbeat, and your body practically vibrated with energy that just needed to escape. 

So you did the only thing that you could think of. 

While curled up in a ball, back against the wall, you grasped your head in your hands and began to thump it back aggressively. 

The consistency and shock of pain brought you somewhat back to yourself. 

Certainly not enough to stop the action but enough to realize that you were having an anxiety attack. 

It soothed you only to a point, a point that was quickly crossed. 

And one that you knew was more than you could handle. 

Reacting to it, you grabbed your hair in your hands and pulled, continuing to smack your head backward and cry. 

Just as it was about to get worse, the waves of emotion nearly too much to handle, you heard Billie’s voice as it reached the bedroom. 

“Lunch is ready!” 

It snapped you into lucidity if only for a moment, a moment where you realized that if you didn’t gather yourself and get downstairs that Billie Dean would be on her way up. 

You took a second and wiped the tears from your face as you dragged yourself into the bathroom. 

It only took you a few seconds to fix your hair and clean your face but that was enough to worry Billie. 

As you scrambled out of the bathroom, you heard her heels start up the staircase. 

She had just breached the top of the stairs when you came out tentatively and with one look at your face, she knew that something was off. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You didn’t respond and merely looked at her feet, trying your hardest not to maintain eye contact with the perceptive woman. 

“You’ve been crying, I can tell sweetheart.” 

Her tone was soft and her words alone were enough to break the tentative barrier you had placed over your emotions. 

And just a second after you processed what she had said, your knees gave out and the tears started up again. 

Curling into yourself on the floor, you didn’t notice how Billie ran over to you, her heels getting kicked off to breach the distance quicker. 

You didn’t notice the look of abject concern on her face or how her eyes tightened, little lines popping out of her tensed facial features. 

All you could register was the pressure in your chest and the buzzing in your head so that noise drowned out whatever Billie was trying to say to you. 

Her hand landed on your shoulder, gentle and soft, yet you still flinched at the contact. 

You pulled your body in tighter and shielded every part of you that mattered. 

Billie didn’t hesitate though. 

She knew that touch could be difficult for you sometimes so she merely sat down beside you. Her body resting just an inch from yours as she softly spoke. 

She waited and rode out the dip in emotions with you, her voice cooing soothing words that took too much time to process. 

Occasionally she would hum out a song or whisper nonsense near your ear, anything that she could think of to distract you from what was going on. 

It was incredibly hard for her not to reach out for you and she kept her hands tightly gripped onto her knees, her fingers tensed to prevent them from touching you. 

Eventually, her voice started to siphon through. 

Not by much but little hints of muffled words and just the sound of it alone soothed you slightly. 

Enough so that your arms loosened from around your frame and your breathing stopped stuttering as harshly as it had been. 

Billie Dean took this as an invitation, an opening in your current shutoff state, and reached her hand out. Lightly pressing it into your palm. 

That touch anchored you. 

The real and physical warmth doing something to bring you back down. 

Her hand didn’t move, just rested there in the hopes of not startling you and your eyes drifted up as they locked with Billie’s. 

The brown eyes that you loved so much were infinitely soft and warm, they were concerned, of course, you could see it in the furrow of her brow. 

It lifted some weight off of your chest, some inexplicable terror over her reaction. 

You were always worried that her reaction would be extreme and that you would not be safe. 

Even though Billie was the kindest and gentlest soul that you had ever met. 

That fear always seemed to plague you, even after all the time that you had been together, you were still scared of her seeing you at your worst. 

It felt like tearing back your skin and exposing the very base of you, the parts even you didn’t want to see. 

And if you couldn’t bear the sight of them, then how could she? 

You always did underestimate her love for you. 

Your insecurities made you think that she was only with you for the convenience of it all instead of love. 

Billie shocked you out of those thoughts, however, when her hand tightened in your grip and woke you from the near spiral. 

“How about we move to the bedroom sweetheart?” 

Your body was still weak but even you knew that laying on the hard floor was less than ideal, so you nodded your head and waited as Billie helped you back onto your feet. 

You led in front of her on weak legs as she guided you to the bedroom by your hips, her hands supporting you on the off chance that you might fall. 

When you finally made it there Billie urged you into the bed. 

She stepped back to give you a moment to adjust while she went around the room and took away things that might bother you. 

Closing the blinds for less light, tidying up some mess, and grabbing a pair of comfy clothes for you to change into whenever you were ready. 

As she finished she pulled back the sheets and crawled into bed with you, looking over at you patiently to see if you wanted her to be closer. 

At this point, the panic had left you but the depression remained and all you wanted was to curl up into her arms. 

So you did. 

Crawling over you practically collapsed against her chest, your head burrowing into her neck as her arms surrounded you. 

You breathed out in contentment, her comforting presence soothing some of the aches inside of you. 

Enough so that you could at least formulate a thought. 

Her hands reached up and pulled gently through your hair, smoothing out tangles and eventually settling against your scalp to massage into the skin. 

Billie’s hand froze though when she felt something strange. 

“That’s a big bump sweetheart. Did you do this to yourself?” 

You felt her fingers lightly probe across your scalp at her words and you winced as they prodded down into a particularly sore spot. 

You must have been hitting your head much harder than you had thought. 

“I was hitting my head, it made me feel better.” 

Billie tried her best not to let out a breath at your words but her heart dropped.

She was terrified, quite honestly, that if you started hurting yourself like this that it would only escalate. 

But she didn’t want you to see that fear and feel guilty. 

“Okay, thank you for telling me.” 

The blond woman didn’t want to push too far just yet and as much as she wanted to talk about how dangerous self-harm could be, she knew that it wasn’t the time. 

“What made you feel like doing that sweetheart?” 

You almost started crying again when she asked and embarrassment filled you at the thought of revealing how bad it had gotten to her. 

But you knew that you couldn’t avoid it anymore, she had quite literally caught you in the act, and stalling it now would only be disastrous for you both. 

“I’ve been really bad lately Billie… my depression has just made it impossible to function.” 

Billie tightened her arms around you, a sheen of tears covering her eyes at the thought of you struggling so much all by yourself.

“I’m trying so hard to be okay but it isn’t enough.”

She didn’t interrupt you as you continued, voice shaking and heart beating fast. 

"I want to be happy but I don’t think I deserve it.”

You barely resisted crying again at the thought, even now with Billie Dean holding you it was hard to imagine a scenario where you continued to be happy with her and in life. 

“You deserve all the happiness in the world, all of it.” 

Billie’s words were firm, her conviction echoed through as she spoke and it made your body shudder at the absolute faith that she had in you. 

It felt almost impossible when you couldn’t even believe in yourself but Billie had always been a positive influence. 

Lifting you up and encouraging you when you couldn’t do it on your own. 

“You aren’t any less deserving because you have depression.” 

As Billie spoke she leaned her head down and placed a smattering of kisses across your face, covering every inch of you that she possibly could with love and affection. 

The simple gesture brought a lightness to you that you hadn’t felt in some time. 

Even with Billie Dean here you still felt your depression creeping up, always lingering, but it almost seemed a little more manageable. 

Her touch and kindness reminding you that you were human and that you deserved love, affection, and care when your mind would generally convince you otherwise. 

You both took a moment to breathe. 

You with your head buried in her chest and Billie with her lips pressed tenderly against your forehead. 

She almost felt as if she had to remind herself that you were there with her and that you were safe. 

It made Billie never want to let you go and she knew that for the next few weeks, while she was at home, that she had no intention of doing anything but spending time with you. 

“I want to help if you’ll let me?” 

Her words pulled you out of the lull you had fallen into, bringing you back to the present with a stark reminder that things weren’t okay. 

You were thankful for it though because your never-ending habit of shoving things down was easier to escape with Billie around to pull you back on track. 

She was a driven woman, always working hard to do better and more. 

Anyone could see that by watching her shows and series, she tried her best to help as many people as she could. 

So you knew that she meant it wholeheartedly. 

After sitting there night after night listening to her passionately talk about some family that needed help with a spirit, or some other child with the gift, you never once doubted her sincerity. 

At her heart, Billie Dean was a woman with a caring soul and she never let anybody slip through the cracks if she could extend a hand. 

You felt honored to be on the receiving end of her compassion and you loved her all the more for it. 

But that didn’t change how intimidated you felt at the thought of actually doing something to alter your situation. 

“I do but I’m scared, Billie.” 

You looked up at her as you spoke and you saw a tender smile on her face, one that made your cheeks flush and your heart race. 

She was so beautiful, even now, with her hair a little disheveled, her eyes slightly teary, and her nose a little red from emotion. 

“You won’t have to do it alone and we can figure it out together.” 

That reassurance meant the world to you. 

Just the thought of having to start this all alone would be terrifying and you already knew what needed to be done. 

Therapy, medication possibly, and processing your feels. 

So much work that you did not remotely feel prepared for but you had done it before, long before Billie Dean, when you had another bad downward spiral. 

It was discouraging to think that you would need to start all over again. 

But back then you had been alone. 

Struggling to get through the days and fighting for who knows what, you just kept going.

This time around you weren’t alone and Billie Dean was even offering to be there with you. 

It was a gift you had never thought you would ever receive. 

“I can practically hear your thoughts Y/N.” 

Billie chuckled lightly at her own words, a teasing little jab that she only meant in the best of ways. 

It made a laugh fall from your lips for the first time in ages and you shoved her lightly for the teasing. 

“You can do this, we can do this, and I know just how strong you are even when you’re feeling weak.” 

Her words filled you with some hope, almost like hearing it from another person was reassurance enough that you could get through it all. 

You breathed out a sigh and met her eyes, they were filled with so much love that you almost started crying again.

Instead, you sat up and grasped her face in your hands, bringing your lips to hers and kissing her lightly. 

Her mouth opened and her soft lips closed over your own, the simple connection made your heart pound. 

It reminded you of exactly what you had at stake, happiness with Billie Dean wasn’t a trivial thing.

You had ruined relationships before with your mental illness. 

Either by letting yourself go, not putting enough effort in, or self-sabotaging. 

So you knew of course, that if you didn’t try it might put a strain on the relationship. 

A strain that you would never want Billie to go through but you knew that if it did happen she would stick by you. 

There was so much comfort and calm in that alone but you wanted to try for her and most of all yourself. 

Her reassurances made you feel like you actually deserved to be happy long term and that all you needed to do to get there was work towards it again. 

You knew it was never an easy road but it was a worthwhile one. 

Besides you had done it once before, you could do it again, right? 

Billie had watched on with a smile as you thought, she could practically see your mind whirling and processing. 

She loved to see your brow scrunch as you worked through it all and she watched happily as you did so. 

“I love you, sweetheart.” 

Billie Dean couldn’t help the affection that dropped so easily from her lips. 

There was just something about those first few hours together after she had come back. 

Hours where all of the little details about you that she craved were acted out for her to enjoy. 

Just looking at you like this made her feel so soft and she just wanted to remind you of exactly how much she cared for you. 

She could feel your fear, anxiety, and negative thoughts drifting to the wayside as a small flicker of hope lit up. 

“I love you too, Billie.” 

You grinned and lowered your face, a little shy when being confronted with her beautiful smile. 

It truly was luminous, bright, and singular in the otherwise dim room. 

Sometimes seeing her smile felt like looking at a piece of art in motion before your very eyes. 

Billie pulled you back against her chest with a happy sigh, hands running up and down your back as you got comfortable. 

“I appreciate you so much Billie… when everything’s wrong, it’s you that makes it right.” 

You spoke before you could think twice.

It felt important now, at that moment, to tell the blond woman how thankful you were for her and just how much she had helped you now and in the past. 

Billie’s heart stuttered at your words. 

She often felt like she didn’t help quite enough, it was harder to separate that need to do more from you as she did with everyone else in her life. 

Hearing your words made her feel like she had done just enough and had been there for you right when you needed her. 

And there was no greater feeling. 

“Why don’t we just spend the day in bed hm? No worries, no stress, just me and you.” 

At Billie’s words, you smiled, you weren’t quite ready to leave the room or her arms yet. 

The happiness in this little bubble that you two had made felt like everything that you needed right now. 

Billie must have been feeling the same since she suggested it, she was not usually a person to just sit around. 

She was much more accustomed to working and moving at a fast pace, so she must’ve also wanted to stay in this moment for just a little longer. 

“But what about lunch.” 

Your only concern felt silly but you couldn’t help voicing it. 

Guilt began to bombard you at the thought that you had interrupted the meal that Billie had worked on. 

But the blond woman stopped that train of thought before it even began. 

“Don’t worry about that, I have everything I need right here.” 

Your face heated at her words, a blush spreading through you as your mind was distracted by her sweet words. 

You settled back against her, sufficiently reassured, and tried to focus on the present. 

Billie Dean held you tight and you knew that working on it all wouldn’t be an easy or simple task but with her, it all felt a little more possible. 

Her support meant the world to you, so as you laid back against her you promised yourself one thing. 

You promised that you would try your best and that you would always show Billie how much she meant to you. 

And you thought that if you could manage that, with her by your side, maybe everything would be okay after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @a-nastywoman


End file.
